Regarding the Man with the Bonsai Tree

You held life in dead hands
holding steady to the ideal of this man
who knew how to stick it out

Her purse on one shoulder and her coat on the other
one palm on her waist, an excuse to get closer
you held out the tree,to her disapproving composure

she smiled looking at the man across the row
he was giving his girlfriend a necklace, gold.
You'll never win her this way, you know.

Day Two

Wrote about a young kid yesterday...


constant connetion
technology at your fingertips
brain waves link airwaves link rays of radiation
text on scroll pages in pocket computers and mp3 players
block out the sound of real life that surrounds you
trade LOL with laughter leaving soul to mouth to earhole
the click of some buttons to the graze of rough skin
a virtual lifestyle from miles of unchartered brilliant earth
forgotten what real life is worth

Poem 1-A Man and a Perdicament

Here is the first bus poem, decided these will be unedited poems

he lightly kissed the heads of three children
tucked into wooden framed beds he built
before he would head into the darkened day

hes been here before,
surrounded but alone
wedding ring feeling misplaced on left hand ring finger,
and bus of early morning commuters watch him play content
crossword puzzless done in pen
beanies on heads to hide the cold
big hands take backpacks, wide backs give rides to small kids
tying him to this life while he thinks ' i could've been big'
slips off his wedding band, opens a magazine with his left hand and feels relief
when ladies smile he feels seen
not stuck with thinking 'this is life for me'

stopping to greet the woman in the high heeled shoe
he exists the bus daily to sit in a room selling things to people who would'nt know what to do with the product
another hiccup in society
dreams crushed under the rest of life's necessities
its demanding 'feed me' needs leaving him hungry and empty for the filling
bent on knees pleading for a break

Busy Bee and Resolutions

The time between then and now seems to have stretched a lifetime. I am changing, you are changing, the people we love are changing too.

It has been a little over a month since my last blog, bad I know, but life has a way of pulling your attention to places other than where you want it to be. Novemeber was National Novel Writing Month. I started off strong and determined to finish the race. Half way through the month a personal clamity struck in which everything I thought I stood for seemed to be questioned. I had always thought myself the strong person, with even stronger convictions, but I waivered in a situation that held universal sized importance. In my hesitance I failed a very percious friend. I stopped writing. To you, to myself, for NaNoWriMo. Depression reached a low I hadn't been at in years. I cried. Everyday and most of the night. I think I am back now, the guilt I feel i've been assured is unncessary and I am trying to be the person I have always hoped to be.
I am starting a new project for my poetry. I hope to list it here and on my site valerielongwriting.com, it will be a year of poetry inspired by the mass commuters I see on the bus everyday. This idea came to be when I first started riding the bus in August of this year. There were so many different types of people who all had a story, I wanted to write it for them. Particularly the girl in the yellow shoes, the one in the fishnet stockings, the man with the red nose, the couple with matching lip rings. They all had something to say, and I wanted to help them say it. So this year, for each day I am on the bus I will write about one person and their story, however fabricated it may be and I will post it for you. Its my way of saying thank you to diversity and to people for being beautiful and making me fall in love with you every day.

My First Write In (sorta)

Hey ya'll-

Today is going to be my first NaNoWriMo write in (nanowrimo.org). It is going to be a little different than most people's write ins. I am doing it with my sister who lives about 1,100 miles south of me. We will have Yahoo IM connected, the same music playlist and write from noon to four straight. We both have a goal of getting to 12,500 words today. We are looking at an increase of 6,117 for me and 8,083 for my sister. I have been so down this week feeling sick, I've hardly written at all so I am hoping this will give me that much needed boost to get me on that 50,000 word list. Happy Writting everyone!

Okay, so this time I did ditch, and for a while. I am sorry. I am going to try very hard to not let it happen again. Things have just been so CRAZY these past couple of months. Below is a quick run down of my life since my last post:

July: I got to see my wonderful family while we went on a 5 day Mexican Cruise to Cabo San Lucas, and I must say a cruise is the best way to spend a vacation. This was the first family vacation where we didn't have to fight over what to do, worry about the cost of the attractions, or try and find transportation for us all to have some alone time. We were able to do things ourselves, meet new people, see new things, and still all meet for dinner in the evening. Most of everything was paid for in the cost of the trip and so we didn't have to worry about money. Not to mention unlimited food...and really good food. We also met a beautiful couple, in their...lets say 50's. Linda and Charles. They were delightful and made each day just a little bit more exciting. We are set to go on a 7 day Caribbean Cruise in May as our second.

August: I MOVED!!! That's right, I got out of the house and moved into my own studio apartment in the North End. It has been glorious. It was like when I moved my creative floodgate opened up to whole new realms. My first month in here I wrote 3 new songs, several poems, and a short story that I was proud of. This was after months of trying to create anything worth keeping. I bought a microphone and am looking into some software to look at recording a CD (for myself) that consists of seven songs I have written since living here. In the move I did lose a dear friend, and that is sad. She didn't die, she just went away but those are the choices we make. I am able to hear through the grapevine a general of how she is and that makes me feel a little bit better about that.

September: BUMBERSHOOT and COHEED AND CAMBRIA. Those two alone would have made September the best month ever. I made incredible concert friends, one of whom I still talk to a little bit. Felt loved, and fell in love during the Modest Mouse show, and yes I was on the bar. Then at Coheed I met up with an old friend, Aaron and even being in seats that show rocked it. They played 'The Crowing', how does it get better than that? Oh wait, it was that they finally played 'The Velourium Camper III: Al the Killer' because I LOVE that song and have always wanted to be in a crowd of [mostly] white girls screaming, "die white girls, die white girls!" Note: The band is not racist, you just have to know the story behind Al.

October: October was glorious. I saw WHY? yet again, this time with Hannah and they made my heart scream "WOOHOO!" The newest album Eskimo Snow is different but intelligent and beautiful. Pick it up, listen, then listen again. My best friend, Priscilla also showed up for a few days and we had the pleasure of seeing the ever funny Kevin Smith, that night my stomach hurt and my pants, I must admit had been peed.

On another note, I was also promoted and got a raise in this month of October, that's always good news.

November: So I start NaNoWriMo this month, I get the pleasure of writing a frantic novel of 50,000 words in thirty days. I will keep my updates here, also at nanowrimo.org. Check it out, it's going to be a good time!

The New Wave

I know its been awhile but I promise I didn't just ditch. I was in San Francisco this weekend! It was really fun. We left Thursday night at around 5:30pm and drove all night into San Francisco. It was beautiful and fun. We weren't aware that it was Pride weekend and so we were in for a suprise but had a blast. Pink Satuday, the Pride street fair, we also did a ghost tour and saw Charles Manson, Jim Jones', and Janis Joplin's houses. We drove down the crookedest street, went to the aquarium, and stopped at a beach.This was along with driving through a tree, having 'real' chinese food, and hanging on to the edge or a cable car. All in all it was pretty eventful. We met very nice people and became delirious on the way home deciding we are starting a rockish/popish/ technoish band thats more of a trip to watch live, than Pink Floyd on acid. We don't have a name, or band members but it's going to be a hit! There's pictures at myspace.com/liquidscenes for your enjoyment, don't have the time to post them here. Toodles!

I'm Back!

I have been gone for SO long and missed so much here on Blogger. I am sorry and I will not neglect again, at least I will try not to neglect. So much has happened but nothing has happened all at the same time. Lets talk about upcoming things, my schedule is as follows for the next few weeks:

Thursday June 26th- Go to San Francisco for a mini weekend vacation with Heather
Tuesday June 30th- Start new school classes (one of which is Into to Literature!!)
Friday July 3rd- Pick up stranger Webley fan to stay at our house for the weekend, also,attend awesome Webley Extravaganza
Friday July 5th- CAMP TOMATO
Friday July 10th- Leave for San Diego and a day with my brother, Victor
Saturday July 11th-16th- Mexican Cruise with the Long/Sanchez Clan
Friday July 17th- Decemberists/Andrew Bird at Marymoor Amphitheater
Saturday July 18th- Death Cab for Cutie/New Pornographers at Marymoor Amphitheater
Sunday July 19th- Fighting between Lacuna Coil and Neumos or No Doubt (which I have tickets to)

Times are lovely and I feel like I am actually doing things, enjoying life, living. I haven't begun to plan August yet but we have birthday's coming up, maybe new housing to look into, wonderful shows I'm sure are coming. It's going to be fantastic and I promise to be more frequent to update so everyone who can't enjoy it with me can enjoy it through me.

In better news I also purchased a little digital camera so that I can now better document the happenings of life around me. I'm glad to share it. Good day

Bye-Bye

I'm leaving New Mexico today to go back home. It was a nice visit while it lasted. I really enjoyed seeing my friends and family, making plans, going to parties, and hanging out but thankfully it's time to get back to my big, beautiful and very comfortable bed with my larger than life housemates and my slut of a cat. Once I get home my nose will stop bleeding (high altitudes do that), my mouth wont be swollen (dryness issue) and I'll get a good nights sleep (hospital beds=not comfortable). Sorry I was away while I was...well away but I should be back with pictures and poetry for you shortly. Thanks for your patience.

Home Sweet Home

I arrived at the Albuquerque airport at about 11pm last night to 70 degree weather with twelve mile an hour winds. Meanwhile my housemate is freezing in our 50 degree house back in Seattle. Gosh, it's good to be home! Getting home, however, was quite the ordeal. I got my new (and vegan) shoes, had all my bags packed and was ready to go. As I am walking up our hill towards the bus I hear this loud roaring, its awfully familiar but I can't seem to place it until I look up and see my very mode of transportation flying past me. I think, "Well, its only twenty minutes till the next bus. I'll just camp out and listen to my iPod." Wrong. I put headphones and get silence. Wait for it.....silence. I look down to see my iPod listing "no music". check artist "no artist" just nothing at all. Trying not to panic I grabbed my bags and rush back home to load music on to my iPod before the next bus arrives. It's just my luck the itunes decides to crap out on me at exactly the same time and wont load music to my ipod without freezing. I've now missed the second bus and have to call a cab to take me to the airport. The cab shows up within five minutes and I'm left to six hours of travel time with zero music. In addition, I'm trapped on vacation for SIX days without my drug. I just spent 20 minutes listening to Lil' Wayne rap about toilet bowls...it's going to be a long six days....

What I Should Be Doing

Yet again I am twittering, blogging, myspacing, facebooking, all when I should be working. I am going to the great Southwest in two days and haven't done laundry, packed, cleaned my room, finished my three mid-term papers, or secured a ride to the airport. Talk about procrastination. Instead of taking care of business today I worked out (which felt so good, I have to start again), dyed my hair (purple, but it looks black), I went shopping and got a great new skirt (not like me AT ALL), adored various female artists via Rhapsody and Youtube (Tori Amos, Bjork, Jesca Hoop, PJ Harvey, Bat for Lashes) and read some Chuck P. 'Pygmy,' his new book, is taking me much longer than I expected but I just haven't had a whole lot of time to read, as sad as that is. So far though it's good. It's written in a broken thought dialect though so it takes some getting used to. I also haven't had time to blog, which is sad but I will quickly catch you up on the events of my life to this point.

May 2nd- I saw the Shins and this lovely band that opened called Delta Spirit (visit various myspace/websites) They were both really good. It was at Western Washington University up in Bellingham and rained almost the entire time. It was beautiful and cold.

May 4th- I saw my beloved Iron and Wine and Sam Beam will always impress. He was charming and very funny and played very beautifully. It was at Vera Seattle. No suprises there. He gave out free CD's which was totally cool and Yogoman Burning Band (from Bellingham) opened and were AMAZING. I totally suggest checking them out. They will rock your world.

May 8th- Saw Star Trek with Mimi and did enjoy. I totally have a crush on Spock, but only as Spock....is that really weird?

May 10th- Finally got to blog, is thinking about writing music again, and has a new housemate named. JD. These things all make me happyish.

Snail March

So, there's a march for snails rights and I am pretty sure the snails know I love them and would never want to hurt them so they are holding it on my walk way. I know this because it honestly took me 6 minutes to walk up to my door. We have 27 little camouflaged snails in various places along our walk way, its like walking through landmines or laser fields to avoid stepping on them! I am really scared to come back tonight in the dark and might just have to go through the back door because if I hear that little 'crunch' under my feet I will probably start crying and Heather won't be here to comfort me. Snail death is everywhere, people, be cautious!

Take it Slow

So right now I am sitting at my computer my hair conditioning in a towel. I am totally comfortable in my pj pants and my Rush Snakes and Arrows Tour shirt and also so totally grossed out. Don't you hate that feeling when you take a shower and you're covered in pureness only to step into a bedroom drenched in filth? Yuck, I have some cleaning to do. The shower wasn't really all that good at the begining either. I put on some Ani DiFranco and hopped in wanting to scream, cry and drown all at the same time. But I forced myself to sing instead. Amazed at the acoustics in the bathroom and the wonderful way they made me sound 100% in tune with Ms. DiFranco I started to sing much louder and that help me blow off some steam. (Although looking back it may have sounded like a nervous breakdown). Once I was a little more relaxed I started thinking about how to calm myself and how we don't live these very short lives to always want to cry, scream, and drown unless its because we are so happy, excited, in love, loved ect. The joy in life is the little things. Like Tuesday I was so frustrated and short fused and was running late to work, this seemed to bother more than it does every other day of the week that I run late, and I stomped out of the house hardly saying bye to my housemate but somehow this small snail (Above) caught my attention mid attitude stride. I stopped and watch it ignoring the time and even snapped a few pictures. As my pace slowed I noticed the other six or seven snails linning out my walk way. As I got in my car and slowly began to pull away I looked in my rearview mirror and there was this stumpy little dog chasing his heart out after my car having the time of his life. I couln't help but smile. These are small things that we forget and shouldn't. Then theres the other bigger things like how my housemate/very good friend is super nice to be even when I have been a complete jerk lately and is totally trustworthy, or how even though I could have lost my job today by being a meany, at least i have a job to lose and I am not one of the people who I talk to everyday out of work. I am making friends like freaky Walter, or Aaron who I am going to Chicago with, or even Lewis who me and Heather have the pleasure of housing for Jason Webley and Tomato Camp. (http://www.jasonwebley.com/) and I get to see both the Shins and Iron and Wine (check out respective websites/myspaces) within the next five days. I have so much good around me that I can focus on. So, anyway, today I think my sick day was very successful in being a healer and I am writing, working on papers, cleaing being productive and doing everything to not be angry.

Concerts and Writing

Hey people of the world. I hope you all are well. I am working on my shorts today. Also, I plan to work on some poems and uploading/revamping my website valerielongwriting.com. I haven’t been able to work on it in so long, so today I am going to get some new stuff up there and make sure that its running again. I will probably post some poetry up here as well. Wednesday night I went to Cold War Kids. The show was really great. It started with Crystal Antlers, a band from California that reminded me oddly of some Mars Volta with an emo twist. I’m not really sure why though….They were good nonetheless and had great on stage presence. They had a lot of instrumental breaks so I enjoyed that greatly. Then Cold War Kids came on and stole the night like I knew they would. They are all so energetic its tiring just to watch them play! Speaking of concerts, I am going to Lollapalooza in August and am beyond excited. I have been planning and researching places to stay, planes, trains, automobiles
:) its going to be a short but joyous vacation and I get to see Animal Collective, Tool, Decemberists, Coheed and Cambria, Builders and Butchers, Jane’s Addiction, Cold War Kids and more for a multiple time and Depeche Mode, Bat for Lashes, Ben Harper, Atmosphere and so many more for the first time. Plus, I get to visit Chicago :) Aw, so many things, so little time and money for that fact but where there’s a will there’s a way. Anyway I better get back to cleaning my house, doing my laundry and putting pretty words on computer paper.

"How Hemingway Went" (Short,Short Story)

Here's a story for you all. It probably has A LOT of editing and spelling issues but enj0y!

Today I thought I’d clean the bathroom like I’d promised to for weeks but instead I sat and stared at the rain from the broken go-cart in the living room. Its contents thrown about like black oiled fish guts. The slap-tap of the water bouncing off the pavement. My legs don’t work. The scum on the sink spreading but I’m waiting for your car in the driveway in a gold knitted hat, in a go cart, in the living room.
“For heaven’s sake, Toby, get in this kitchen and clean off these dishes! I’m tired of this filth you cause in this house.”
She always seemed to forget it was her filth that made the house smell so wretched and her dishes that piled up even though she never seemed to eat. I walked into the den where she had laid the night before, barefoot, ragged, sunken in and drunk. Her sterling rose colored lipstick was smeared to one side and she was humming an unrecognizable tune when I caught her eye.
“It’s about time Toby, Jesus you move like a cripple and what in the world is wrong with your face?”
I automatically look down, ashamed of the plainness of my looks. Mattie is an extravagant type of lady. The kind who wears expensive clothes and drinks high prices wine for everyday leisure, the type of lady who makes big hand gestures when she talks and small giggles when the rarity of embarrassment happens. She was a woman who wasn’t easily satisfied.
“It’s almost two o’clock, Toby, what have you done all day?”
I continued not to say a word and walked on through the swinging door into the kitchen. There was vomit in the sink. “My goodness, Mattie, What is it with you? Can you go one night? One night without drinking yourself senseless?” My screaming at her seemed to be a kind of ritual, our types of ‘hello’ to each other. It was my way of making her feel bad enough to just leave me alone, go into her room or the cellar and drink while I stayed upstairs painting or writing letters to him that I would never send.
“Don’t you raise your voice at me, Toby Madeline. I’m in charge here.” She half moaned half screeched while holding on to the golden handle bar on the breakfast nook.
“Grow up Mattie. Get a job and stop living off your dead husband’s inheritance. Do something with yourself.” I snarled at her knowing this statement hurt her to hear just as much as it stung me to say it. I walked out the front door forgetting about the rain and continued walking till I saw the bus nearing the stop just up ahead. I jogged to the stop right as the bus got there. Opening the door was a tall older man with a five o’clock shadow. His eyes were deep set and tired, his mouth slightly bent in a smile as he nodded his head towards me. “Looks like you should had an umbrella, girl.” At this he gave me a toothy grin and everyone watched as my shoes squeaked against the bus floor. The dark woman with the curly haired infant watched me intently looking down when I had finally caught her eye. The older handicapped man in the corner looked disgusted with my appearance and turned away disapproving, "damn kids,” he muttered and shifted in his wheel chair. I walked to the back part of the bus. My cap had developed a constant drip onto my shoulder. The bus had started up again and I jolted in my seat sliding into the pole next to me. I began to play with the strands on my chocolate powder brown sweater holding back the tears of anger and frustration.
“I like your hat.” A small pink cheeked child who had gotten on the bus with a stout elderly woman had said. He hopped on the seat and poked his fingers through my hat hole.
“Thanks.” I smiled at him and he giggled. The elderly lady I found out was his grandmother who he has to stay with during the day when his father worked. He told me his mother went away with the cancer and that’s when they moved to the city. My stop was nearing and I bid farewell to the boy. My clothes were still damp but no longer wet. I stepped off the bus into the fresh, cool, air. The sun had come out and the clouds were parted at spots. I walked the short distance down the almost deserted street corner up to the discolored and dilapidated tenement buildings.
“Joshua Bening!” I yelled to the open window a few stories high. I waited a minute and shouted again, “Joshua Bening if you don’t get down here!” A light blue windbreaker came sailing out the window and my heart sped up and my stomach filled with butterflies. In minutes he was standing next to me but I was still looking up toward the now almost cloudless sky.
“Nothing up there can be as great as what I’m looking at,” he said with mock suaveness. I looked at him and laughed but he saw the sadness in my eyes. “Is it Mattie again?” His concern was genuine and I felt completely at ease and for the first time in days, comfortable.
“She’s been drinking for days.” When I said the words the flood of memory of the last few days came back. The fighting, the crying, and waiting for her to get sober.
“Why didn’t you come see me sooner?” He had placed his hand on my back guiding me down the street towards our favorite café. I stayed silent as he ordered our coffee from a pale girl with green eyes. “Do you want anything to eat, Toby?” I shook my head no. I couldn’t eat. My stomach was in knots. We sat in a booth with ‘Café Terrace at Night’ imitation paintings on them.
“She hasn’t stopped this whole week; with his birthday coming up she’s been completely overwhelmed.” My legs were shaking as I spoke. I looked down at my dark roasted coffee quickly getting cold. I took a sip just to do something with myself.
“How are you handling it, Toby?” The question came as a surprise and caught me off guard. My mouth was stuck dry together, the bitter taste of coffee glued to my tongue.
“I’ve been better. I waited for him today; you know neither of us has moved that go-cart from the living room?” Joshua chuckled a bit as an ambulance raced by, its sirens being heard blocks away and the murmurs around us rising.
“We should finish the go-cart, Toby. You know as a tribute to him or something.” Joshua’s suggestions, as obvious as it seemed, never even occurred to me. I had kind of grown accustom to the large metal heap in our living room. It stood like a monument or a tombstone.
“I don’t know, maybe.” My words came out in a whispered voice. “We should walk.” I told Joshua already standing up putting on my overcoat. I stepped out onto the sidewalk and the streets had seemed to be completely covered with people of all sorts. My walk was quick paces and I wove in and out of the students, businessmen and customers around me. Joshua was somewhere behind. I could hear his voice telling me to “slow down” or “wait up” I eventually began to get winded and I slowed, allowing our gap to close.
“What’s up with you?” Joshua’s breath was hard and I could feel the tears running down my burning cheek. Angry walkers bumped against us sneering over their shoulders as they passed. We got closer and I whispered between sighs, “Why wasn’t I good enough for him to stick around?” I closed my eyes and I was back at the doorway again looking in at the red covered wall. The way his legs lay at an awkward sideways angle sloppily over one another. What would have been his head lay all over the sage love seat Mattie had put in his rich oak office. The gun lay on his limp lap. Joshua had led me to a nearby bus stop heading toward our homes.
“She blames me for it. She says I didn’t get help fast enough, or because we always fought, or …we didn’t ever fight Joshua.” I couldn’t stop the tears that now covered my face and Joshua’s hand from wiping them away. His eyes were damp with sadness. He’d known only enough of my father’s death, the rest I refused to speak of and now the story came out so freely. I was unable to hold it in and I wasn’t sure I wanted to. “I didn’t think Mattie ever loved him, or me for that fact but when I got her on the phone, when I told her he was dead, when I read her the note he left me…I’ve never felt someone’s pain so real and deep at such a distance. My mom went silent after that for days she didn’t say a word. She wouldn’t eat, she just stayed locked up in her room reading the note he left specifically for her. She would hover over it reading it over and over again. At night I’d hear her from my room cursing him for leaving but when day came it was always my fault that her husband blew his head off. She seemed to forget I lost my dad.” The bus had pulled up and was waiting for me and Joshua to get on. As my foot left the pavement onto the bus I felt a sense of relief from having shared even so little of me and Mattie’s story. When I looked at Joshua he didn’t seem judgmental or afraid like I had thought he would. Instead he took my hand and held it tightly knitted with his and talked again about finishing the go-cart me and my father had started. I talked about letting him read the notes I write to my dad. Then he stopped and looked at me intensely, "Maybe, Toby, you need to forgive her just as much as she needs to forgive you, after all, she lost a husband.”
“Maybe.” Was all I would allow out. I knew inside he was right. I hated her these past months. She disappeared when my father died and I gave her no chance of redemption when she tried. I’d grown used to our religious fights when she’d come home and the silence otherwise. I thought over how much we had both changed since my father’s death as I walked back to my house. Joshua already on his way back home. When I walked in to the house Mattie was laid in a ball in the corner, a bottle of scotch next to her feet. She looked vulnerable and innocent and angelic as her chest rose with each deep, stifled breath, her lips pouted like a lover, her eyes crinkled in almost confusion. I wondered what she was dreaming. Then as I walked towards her and lightly kissed her forehead, for the first time in eight months I told my mother I loved her.

© Valerie Long

Bad Painting and Fake Artists

So, I painted today (as seen above). I am not a painter at all but have been writing a lot lately and needed a break but still wanted to let out some creative energy so I took some kids washable paints and made a pretty ordinary and generic painting, but hey I was happy with it. :) While I was painting I started thinking and getting angry. My housemate Heather is a painter, and she is VERY talented and my housemate Justin is a really good musician and I was thinking how as much as technology has opened up so many new fields and doors for artists its also allowed pretty talentless people to get credit for creating 'art'. Music is a huge example. With music mixing software you don't really have to know how to play anything if you know what sounds good you can use the computer to create the sounds of an 8 piece band while in your pj's picking your nose. With digital photography you can make most any picture cropped, colored, and focused to perfection. You don't have to know how to sing to sound good on a cd ect. I am not saying these things aren't useful or that all people who use technology to create these types of art are all talentless but if amazing musicians, painters, photographers were creating beauty without technology years before are we really all that good if we need technology to reach those heights?

P.S "How Hemingway Went" short,short by me will be up later tonight.

Bad Painting
Originally uploaded by aqueousillusion

Twitter is a bad bad thing...

Hey all sorry its been a few days. Nothing has been getting much of my attention in way of writing except homework and, oh it hurts to say, Twitter. I know, I know, I just can't help it. I am addicted to Twitter. I think everyone likes being a little bit nosy and knowing what people are doing all day long, as well as telling others...well it grows on you. Isn't that why Myspace, Facebook, even blogging is addicting? Or at least part of it? I do plan on writing more and getting some parts of my short, short up shortly (ha ha) but I haven't finished it this week.

In better news, I got my Shins tickets on Friday and am excited to drive up to WWU to see them. I have Cold War Kids on Wednesday as well, so fun times. I also bought my plane tickets to go home in ABQ and visit the fam who I miss SO much. All in All good week. Especially Justin making Groucho faces with the Dickydoo that Heather won at a bachelorette party. Penis' with think black mustaches, nothing more appealing!

Writing Heavily

My new short, short story is in progress. I am excited about it and have been writing pretty heavily these past three days. Surely I will have at least part of the story for you shortly. Of course it's a type of love story about many different people and how they all change one another's lives. Some of my highlighted characters are a painter, a musician, a pedophile, a widower, a divorcée, a student, and a sociopath who all pretty much fall in love with someone or something, or are ruined by someone else's love basically. It's actually a tragic love story but that's me I guess. I am having weird NIN and Animal Collective urges. I cannot stop listening. I think it may be the anxiety of getting to see them both in concert fairly soon. Speaking of concerts I passed on X on Saturday night. I wouldn't have gotten my $80.00 back by going so I slept in and daydreamt which was just fine with me. Off to do some college homework for my intro to rock class. G'night.

Spiders are my Friends

So today I cleaned out our crazy gross garage to try and make space in our spare room. It was cold and dusty but I made some new multi-legged friends. They came from EVERYWHERE to greet me with multiple eyes and hungry bellies I am sure of it. Along with the dust bunnies and bubble foam it was a regular parrrtaaayyyy! But its cleaner now and my poor friends have went back to their homes in the crevices of our garage wall. In better news, X is tonight at Showbox Market and I'm going so that should be buckets of fun...I hope anyway. I will try to take pictures and think of glorious words to explain the event at a later time.

anyways, here are the new words for an old story that I would like to share with you.

who recalls what falls beneathe the autumn leaves
left underneathe the railroad station dock
drip drops of rain patter on the tip of his hat
drenched trench coat lay heavy on his shoulder
fire smolders in his ashen eyes as he waves goodbye
to his one last chance to redeem his life.

© Valerie Long

I know,I know

I know its been awhile, I'm sorry. I just got my computer yesterday but the Internet wouldn't work so that was a shindig but now its working and I can blog regularly as well as work on my website valerielongwriting.com and continue on my volume of poetry currently titled " The Abandoned Words and Tales of their Mourning" but is likely to change. I will posting the remaining of the Cabin Dreams poem and probably excerpts of my current short story soon but in the mean time have a wonderful day and continue to stay beautiful. Here is a poem for you


A Run Down House

It was a dilapidated abode with the stained white paint peeling off
in long crinkled strips.
The glass that was once framed shattered on the veranda beneath.
The dusted mattress lay out on the field outside,
a snap shot of a childhood.

© Valerie Long

Unfinished Dreams

Cabin Dreams (unfinished)

Never remember times long gone dry
iced lips
chapped and chattered teeth
in a winter's cabin holding you beneath the snow
love flows from wood ring
to sing song sounds of birds in trees overhead
snow melting on the patio
stillness down below where the water drips lightly
echoing the cold
hands wrap gloves around faces curvature
kissing lips under mother natures blankets
as the sunlight awakes the Earths patrons below
and this is how we'll go....

© Valerie Long

If it's yellow let it mellow...

So last night our water pipe under the sink completely exploded while Melissa was standing right in front of it placing her Tomato Pesto Pizza into our oven. Her yelp as the kitchen cabinet exploded with water flooding the kitchen floor brought all five of us in at once. Needless to say the water was turned off so we had no water at all to use. 3 people left the house not ready to take baths with washcloths and jugs of Arrowhead Bottled Water so Heather and I roughed it out a night but we should be back in business today.

Good news, MSI on Monday ROCKED. Unfortunately I wasn't able to get pictures for the show like I have been this year but pictures wouldn't do justice anyway. I was smooshed sardine style between so many people at different points, soaked with sweat, spit and god knows what else. If you ever get a chance to go to a show the entire band is charismatic in the most negative and vulgar style. One of the most entertaining shows I have been too. The opening bands left something to be desired but weren't altogether bad. At least the keyboardist was hot, and I know that has nothing to do with music. :) Some more writing for you...

Your eyes were like waterfalls
mixed sadness and songs
hidden here behind the trees all along

when I found you, you weren't more than broken dreams and oxygen
hanging around outside looking in for a way to join the living

and now holding your hand,
seeing through the eyes of a better man
I know we're going to get there in the end
Oh I know we'll get there in the end

© Valerie Long

It's a new day...

Today is my first official blog event on this particular site and boy what a day it was! We've had this problem in our house where we don't have a dishwasher and too many adults with too little time to do dishes. So we had a friend come to try and fix this dishwasher and since the attempted repair we have discovered a constant leak in our sink pipe (that has supposedly been fixed a few times now), no hot water for three days, and today a flooded kitchen. We know he's trying to do a good thing for us but I'd prefer the dishes! That was a mini rant of today. For those who may read this blog, its a pointless account of my day to day life more for myself than for you. I will introduce my self with a self portrait in words (its not just a painter thing :))


Self Portrait

Circles remain enlightened in weight on feet
gages for how far we've come
prancing like dancers on precious stones and beehives
the moon rises to a lonely song of night
me asleep by the side of tidal waves of anxiety
with moral obligations to the right
and cold hands, like cold feet,bring hesitation to wrap myself around absolution in your sky
stars shone bright like their dying a million years in our past
still savoring their life through our tubular and angled glasses
reflecting smiles like the laughter of little children on your knees
growing older with every season
like flowers that always wither when winter comes,gone again with sun
a reminder that this too will end in warmth

© Valerie Long